


On the Rocks

by MimiWritesHerFandoms



Category: Gifted (Movie 2017)
Genre: Angst, Domestic Fluff, Drinking, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Family Drama, Family Feels, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Oral Sex, References to Depression, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-15
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-23 19:04:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14940087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MimiWritesHerFandoms/pseuds/MimiWritesHerFandoms
Summary: For months you’ve been watching Frank Adler (aka the damaged hot guy) take home a multitude of women, a different one every Saturday. Every time he flirts with you, or even glances your way, you hope that maybe this time it will be you that he takes home.





	1. Part 1

 

“Can I get another Rolling Rock, Y/N?” Frank asked, sliding onto an empty barstool.

“You’re really throwing them back tonight, aren’t you?” you teased. “What’s the plan? Get drunk or get laid? Because with all the amount of alcohol you’re putting away…”

“I’ll be fine, sweetheart,” he laughed. “Don’t you worry about me. In fact, I could take  _ you _  home and show you, if you’re interested?”

“Get outta here, Frank, before I take you up on that offer.” You shoved the beer into Frank’s hand, grateful that the dim light in the bar would hide your pink cheeks. He winked at you and disappeared back into the crowd.

God, Frank had no idea how bad you wanted that offer to be real. You’d been lusting after the man the women in the bar referred to as “the damaged hot guy” ever since the first time he’d come in. No question he was gorgeous - dark hair with perfectly cultivated scruff to match, baggy clothes that failed to hide his hard, taut muscles, and those blue eyes that you could drown in - but he was also funny, sweet, and way smarter than he let on. Forget the grease under his nails and staining his clothes, or the fact that he flat out refused to discuss his personal life; none of that mattered. You wanted Frank in the worst way possible.

You’d imagined every likely scenario in which that could happen - sex in the bar after you’d closed for the night, drunken sex in your car or his truck, a secret rendezvous at his place - not that you knew where that was - you’d even daydreamed about the happily ever after, rom com ending where the two of you danced into the bedroom and the world faded to black.

But your fantasies were nothing more than fantasies. Every time he came in, you watched Frank leave with a different conquest. You held your jealousy in check, pushing it down deep, reminding yourself that he wasn’t yours to get jealous over. Sure, he flirted with you and you’d even had a few late-into-the-night conversations when he couldn’t find a woman to take home - not that that happened very often- but in the end, he was just another customer. A fact you reminded yourself of constantly.

“Can I get a scotch on the rocks with a lime twist?” the waitress, Penny, asked, interrupting your musings. “And another Rolling Rock for Frank.” She glanced over her shoulder, a grimace on her face. “Looks like he found tonight’s date.”

You snuck a peek at the table across from the bar. Frank was sitting with a petite brunette with a mass of curls falling in her face and adoring brown eyes staring up at him. You swallowed, trying not to vomit at the sight of her lovestruck puppy eyes eating him alive. You looked away, quickly made the requested drinks, and slammed them on Penny’s tray.

“You okay, Y/N?” she whispered.

“Peachy,” you muttered. “I’ll be out back. I need a cigarette.”

By the time you got back inside, Frank and his “date” for the evening were gone. You breathed a sigh of relief, grabbed a rag, and wiped the bar down. Another Saturday in the books.

* * *

“Well, hiya gorgeous, how are you?” Frank leaned over the bar, arms crossed, a wicked grin on his face. “Can I get a beer?”

“Holy hell,” you laughed. “Is it Saturday already?” You looked at your wrist like you were looking at a watch, clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth and shook your head. “You’re late though, so I’m not sure you’re gonna find anybody to take home with you.”

Frank had the decency to look offended before he shrugged and slipped onto a stool. “I’m not looking to take anybody home tonight,” he muttered. He cleared his throat, the smile returning to his face. “I think I’ll just sit here and drink, if that’s alright with you.”

“You okay?” You swiped the rag across the bar in front of you, even though there wasn’t anything there, but at least it gave you an excuse to stand there and talk to Frank, watching him from beneath your lashes.

He scrubbed a hand over his face and let out a stuttering breath. “It’s, uh, been a long week.”

“Wanna talk about it?” you asked.

Frank smiled, a sweet, Jesus-I-wanna-kiss-him-so-bad smile that had your heart pounding, and shook his head. “Nah, I’m just gonna sit here and get drunk, if that’s okay with you.”

You smiled and patted his hand. “I’ll keep ‘em coming,” you murmured.

Getting drunk is exactly what Frank did. He started with Rolling Rock, but it wasn’t long before he was knocking back tequila shots, followed by a whiskey chaser. By the time the bar closed, he was drunk off his ass and barely able to stand.

Once the doors were locked and lights were off, you found Frank in the booth he’d collapsed into, lying across the seat with his arm thrown over his eyes.

“Gimme your keys, Adler,” you nudged his foot with yours.

He groaned, but he shoved his hand into his jeans pocket and pulled them free. He dropped them into your open palm, grabbed the edge of the table, and dragged himself upright.

“You call me a cab?” he mumbled.

“Yeah, so c’mon.” You held out your hand, which he took. You braced yourself and helped him to his feet. “I’ll help you get there.”

“I’m fine,” Frank grumbled, yanking his hand free. 

He managed to take two steps before he stumbled and almost went down; if you hadn’t been there to grab him and sling his arm over your shoulder, he would have had more than a hangover-induced headache. You snatched your purse off the bar and guided him out the side door, kicking it closed behind you.

The cab you’d called him was waiting right outside. You managed to get Frank to the cab and lean him against the side of it while you opened the door.

“In you go, cowboy,” you sighed, gesturing to the back of the cab.

Frank put a hand on the roof of the car, most likely using it to keep himself upright. You only hoped he could remember his address, seeing as how you didn’t know it. He stepped closer, so close you could feel his body heat seeping into you. He put a hand on your waist, leaned over and pressed a kiss to your cheek, the scruff on his chin scratching you.

“You’re a sweetheart, Y/N,” he whispered. “I’d be lost without you. See you next week.” He slipped into the cab and slammed the door. A few seconds later, it pulled out, spraying you with dirt.

“Does he hear the words that come out of his mouth?” you muttered to yourself, spinning on your heel and strolling across the lot to your car. You dropped inside and started it, the engine sputtering to life after hours of sitting idle. You rested your head on the steering wheel, trying to calm the pounding of your heart after feeling Frank’s lip on your skin. It was a feeling you could get used to.

“Too bad I’ll never get the chance,” you sighed as you put the car in gear and turned it toward home.


	2. Part 2

 

After only five hours of sleep, you were headed back to work, far earlier than you cared for, before ten. One of the many hazards of owning a bar. You had a shipment of liquor coming in, as well as several interviews for new bartenders. The bar was finally making enough money that you could afford to bring in at least one, maybe even two people, to help out. You were expecting it to be a long day.

What you weren’t expecting was for Frank Adler to be sitting on the front steps, waiting for you. You pulled into the lot and parked beside his truck. You forced yourself to wait for a count of thirty before getting out of the car, not nearly enough time to gather your thoughts, but it would have to suffice. You shoved open the door, put a smile on your face and hurried across the parking lot.

“I’m surprised to see you, Adler. I figured you’d still be sleeping it off,” you teased. “You were wasted last night.” You squinted at him, playfully looking him up and down. “How are you upright?”

“I’m not sure,” he chuckled. “My head is killing me and honestly, I think I might vomit, but I need my truck. I’ve got a boat I need to get to by the end of the day and I’m not going to walk.”

“Wouldn’t want that to happen,” you smiled. You dug through your purse until you found Frank’s keys, then you dropped them in his hand, your fingers brushing against his.

“Thanks, Y/N,” he said. “Look, I wanted to tell you I was sorry about last night. I don’t get drunk like that very often, but, well, it’s been a rough week.”

“You wanna talk about it?” you asked, sitting on the step just below him. You’d chase away your interviews and shoo off the delivery if it meant getting Frank to open up to you. The man was as tight lipped as a CIA spy; despite having known him for almost a year, you knew next to nothing about him, aside from the kinds of drinks he drank, that he liked his burgers medium rare, and he was a boat mechanic. Oh, and he was most decidedly single.

“Thanks for making sure I didn’t drive last night. Seriously, I’d be lost without you,” he said, patting your shoulder as he rose to his feet. ”I’d love to stay and chat, but I can’t.”

You felt as if all the air was sucked out of your lungs. You kept trying and you kept getting knocked back down. Maybe it was time to give up, move on to someone that wasn’t Frank Adler.

“You’re welcome,” you muttered under your breath.

Frank was almost to his truck when he slowed to a stop and turned around. “Hey, uh, Y/N, can I buy you lunch some time?” he asked, voice raised so he could be heard over the ocean waves crashing just a hundred yards away on the other side of the bar.

“Sh-sure,” you stammered.

“Wednesday?” he suggested.

“Wednesday,” you agreed.

* * *

Wednesday arrived before you had time to prepare. You’d wanted to get a manicure and a pedicure, maybe even do something with your hair - other than the messy bun on the top of your head - but before you knew it, it was Wednesday morning and you had a mere three hours before you were supposed to meet Frank for lunch. You’d overslept, you still had to stop by the bar and make sure the new bartenders - Jyl and Derek - were good to go for the lunch crowd, drop your nephew’s birthday present off at your sister-in-law’s place, and stop by the courthouse to pick up the paperwork to renew your liquor license.

“Guess he’s gonna have to see me as is,” you grumbled as you threw on a decent blouse, your cutest pair of jeans, and the cutest sandals you owned that didn’t hurt your feet. You were out the door and in your car, coffee cup in hand, less than ten minutes later.

You swung by the courthouse first and for just a second, you could have sworn you saw Frank stepping into one of the family courtrooms at the end of the hall. A second glance showed you nothing more than a door swinging closed behind an expensively dressed older woman who looked like she belonged somewhere else besides the small town outside of Tampa. You decided you must have been imagining things - you had Frank on the brain.

You stopped to see your nephew next. You and your sister-in-law weren’t on the best of terms, you hadn’t been since your brother had died, but she never denied you a chance to see your nephew, Toby. Not that she let you spend a lot of time with him, but she begrudgingly allowed you a few minutes a week. He was excited to see you, sprinting across the small yard and jumping into your arms. You wanted to spend as much time with him as you could, but he was off to the sitter while Jolene went to work, so you only had a few minutes. You helped him unwrap the monster truck you’d gotten him, oohed and ahhed over his other gifts, then you hugged and kissed him goodbye before Jolene could send you away, which usually resulted in an argument. It was better to leave peacefully, for Toby’s sake.

Your final stop before lunch was the bar. You were letting your new bartenders, Jyl and Derek, run the show for the afternoon while you were with Frank. You just wanted to stop in for a few minutes, make sure they knew exactly what needed to be done and what you expected. You hoped to make it a quick stop.

You liked both of your new hires; Derek had several years experience, was quick, efficient, and knew his way around the back of a bar. Jyl - y instead of i and only one l - was also good behind the bar, a little bit flirtier than you liked, but she claimed to know what she was doing and she swore she could handle it when it got busy. Saturday would be the real test of her abilities.

Your new bartenders seemed to have everything well in hand, so you signed off on a couple of invoices, checked your hair in the mirror in your office, then you hurried out to your car. You had ten minutes to get to the restaurant.

Frank was already there by the time you arrived, late, of course. The waitress led you through the restaurant to the patio out back. Frank was sitting by the rail, the wind blowing in off of the ocean rifling is hair, shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows, sunglasses on. You slipped into the seat across from him, apologies falling from your lips.

“It’s okay, Y/N,” he chuckled. “I’ve only been here for about five minutes.” He reached across the table and patted your hand. “You want a drink?”

“Lemonade,” you sighed. “A glass of cold lemonade sounds great.”

Frank signaled the waitress and ordered your drink, then he slid the menu across the table to you, a smile lighting up his face.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m starving,” he said.

* * *

“Wait?” You slammed your glass down on the table, lemonade splashing over the side, a cough erupting from you as you choked on the liquid. “Y-you have a daughter?”

“A niece,” Frank corrected. “I have a niece. Mary. I’ve had...uh, custody of her since she was a baby. Now, she’s seven and in the first grade. She’s...well, she’s precocious. To say the least.”

“I can’t believe it,” you shook your head. “You’re at my bar almost every Saturday night -”

“Sometimes I need a break,” he shrugged. “My neighbor Roberta takes her for me. She’s loves that little girl almost as much as I do.”

“I’d love to meet her sometime,” you murmured shyly. You didn’t want to push, but the little bit he’d said about her had given you a chance to see a side of Frank you hadn’t known existed. It just made you want him that much more.

“I think maybe we could make that happen,” he grinned. He glanced at the watch on his wrist, his brow furrowing. “Damn it. I have to go. Mary gets out of school soon and I need to be home.”

“Oh, oh, sure, I understand,” you nodded, gathering your things.

“Let me walk you to your car,” he said, rising to his feet and tossing some money on the table.

You couldn’t keep the smile off of your face as you walked beside Frank to your car. The date - if that’s what it was - had gone better than you’d imagined, better than you could have ever hoped. So well, in fact you were hoping for a follow up.

“May I?” Frank asked.

You hadn’t even realized you’d arrived at your car, you were so caught up in your imaginings. Frank was standing in front of you, his hand out.

“I-I’m sorry?”

“Your phone, Y/N,” he smirked, pointing at the phone you’d forgotten was in your hand. “I thought I’d give you my number? Then I don’t have to call you at the bar anymore.”

You nodded, opened the phone and slipped it into his hand. He typed in his number and handed it back. You quickly shoved it in your back pocket.

“Text me so I have your number,” he murmured. “I’d love to go out again.”

“I’d like that, too,” you replied. “A lot.”

Frank caught your hand in his, leaned over you and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Talk to you soon, Y/N.” And then he was gone.

You fell into your car, no longer able to support yourself. Your emotions were in overload after the day you’d had. Never in a million years had you thought you’d go on a date with Frank, and you’d never, ever thought he’d want to go out with you again. You closed your eyes and pinched your leg as hard as you could, wondering if you were asleep and needed to wake yourself up. But when you opened your eyes, you were still sitting in your car in front of the restaurant where you’d just had a lunch date with Frank.

You wanted to go home and mull over every second of the last couple of hours, muddle through everything you’d recently discovered about Frank, but of course, your phone rang, an incoming call from the bar, reminding you that you had responsibilities you needed to take care of.

“Okay, work first, obsess over every minute of my date later,” you mumbled to yourself. You hit the button on your phone.

“This is Y/N.”

 


	3. Part 3

The week passed quickly and before you knew it, it was Saturday. It was busier than usual thanks to a convention at one of the nearby conference centers. The bar was packed, wall to wall people, talking and shouting, gyrating to the band you’d hired on a whim late Thursday afternoon. It had apparently been a good decision.

You and Derek were schlepping drinks behind the bar while Jyl and Penny were running to the tables as fast as they could. You hadn’t had even a second to catch your breath, let alone return Frank’s text messages.

Just thinking about the messages made you smile. The two of you had kept up a steady stream of texts over the last three days, varying from teasing and flirting to shy and serious. Every time your phone vibrated with another message, your stomach did a lazy flip. You’d been on cloud nine since your date with Frank and you weren’t sure you were ever going to come down.

“Hey, Y/N?” Jyl tapped the bar. “There’s a guy over there asking for you.” She pointed over her shoulder. “Said he knows you’re busy, but when you get a second, he was wondering if he could talk to you. Says his name is Frank. He’s hot, by the way. Really hot.”

You laughed and nodded. “You’re not wrong, Jyl. Here, take him this,” you set a bottle of Rolling Rock on her tray, “and tell him I’ll be over as soon as I can.”

“You better hurry,” Jyl muttered. “The vultures are circling. I saw at least four or five women eyeing him.”

You couldn’t say you were surprised, but you were surprised at the knot of jealousy gnawing at your gut. You’d only had one date with Frank, you had no claim to him, but boy, if you didn’t have an overwhelming urge to scratch out the eyes of any woman who looked his way.

It took almost half an hour for you to get away from the bar. You hurried through the crowd, looking for Frank, finally spotting him sitting in one of the back booths, alone. You slid into the seat across from him.

“Hey,” you smiled. “How’s it going?”

“Better, now,” he chuckled. “Busy night.”

“Yeah,” you sighed. “Crazy busy. This is the first chance I’ve had to sit down all night.” You pointed at his almost empty beer. “You want another one?”

“Sure,” Frank shook his head. “I’d like to hang out, if it’s okay with you? Wait for you to get off?”

“I’d like that a lot,” you replied.

“Good, because I’m not going anywhere,” he said, winking.

“I’ll be right back with that beer,” you said, sliding out of the booth.

He caught your hand, tugging gently. You turned back, a question on your lips, one that was cut off by Frank rising out of his seat and pressing a kiss to your lips.

“Thanks,” he murmured.

You blushed, gave Frank your best smile, then you turned and hurried back to bar, where it seemed that everyone suddenly needed your attention or your help. You grabbed a beer, gestured to Penny, set it on her tray, and pointed her in Frank’s direction.

“Frank, huh?” Penny smirked. “Nice. Giving him a taste of his own medicine? One and done?”

“God, I hope not,” you giggled nervously. “We haven’t...done anything.”

“Yet,” Penny laughed. “The night is still young.”

You went back to work, Penny’s laughter drifting back over her shoulder. But her words stayed with you, like they were poking at you with a sharp nail. She’d brought light to the one worry you had - the one huge worry. You didn’t want to be one of Frank’s one night stands, ‘one and done’ like Penny said. You wanted more.

You could only hope he did, too.

* * *

You dropped the rag on the bar, raised your hands above your head and stretched, twisting first left and then right, trying to work the kinks out of your back. You just wanted to stretch out somewhere, close your eyes, and never get up. At the moment, you were considering using the bar top as a place to lie down. It wouldn’t be the first time. You snuck a look across the bar at Frank. He was sitting patiently in the same booth, flipping through a book he’d brought in with him.

“Go sit down,” Derek said, right beside your ear. “I’ll finish up.”

“No, no,” you shook your head.

“Seriously. It’s been a long night and you’ve been on the go since this morning. I’m happy to finish cleaning up. Go put your feet up,” he insisted.

“Are you sure?” you asked.

“Yes, I’m sure,” he smiled. He nodded toward Frank. “Besides, he’s waiting for you.”

“Thanks, Derek. I won’t forget this.” You slipped out from behind the bar and made your way across the bar. You leaned against the table beside Frank.

“Hey, stranger,” you murmured.

Frank snapped his book closed and looked up at you. “Well, hi. Closing time?”

“Finally,” you sighed. “Look, I was gonna head back to my office -”

“Mind if I tag along?” he asked.

“Read my mind,” you grinned. “Come on.”

Frank followed you back to your office, a small, former storage room off the kitchen in the back, with barely enough room for a desk, a chair, and a small filing cabinet. You sat on the edge of your desk while Frank closed the door and leaned against it. You kicked off your shoes with a heavy sigh.

Frank sidled up to you, stepped between your legs, his hands falling to your waist. He ducked his head, caught your lips in his, and kissed you. You moaned a little in the back of your throat, your hands curling around the back of his neck, dragging him closer. When he finally pulled away, you were both panting heavily.

“I’ve been wanting to do that since Wednesday,” he murmured.

“So why didn’t you?” you asked.

He brushed the back of his hand across your cheek and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “I, uh...I didn’t want to rush things,” he shrugged. “Not with you.”

“So, you’re not interested in a ‘one and done’ kind of thing then?” you whispered, silently praying that was exactly what he meant.

“No, I’m not,” he shook his head. “Are you?”

“Definitely not,” you said.

Frank blew out a breath and rested his forehead against yours. “Thank God,” he smiled. “Hey, what are you doing tomorrow?”

* * *

You pushed a hand through your hair and held your dress in place, the breeze coming off the ocean strong enough to blow it up like Marilyn Monroe standing over that grate. You scanned the dock until you saw Frank sitting in a boat, a little blonde girl sitting beside him, an orange, one-eyed cat on her lap. You squared your shoulders, grabbed the cooler from the backseat of your car, and made your way down the ramp. You stopped in front of them, a tentative smile on your face.

“Hi,” you murmured.

“Hi!” Frank sprang out of his seat and jumped onto the dock. He glanced at the little girl out of the corner of his eye before wrapping an arm around your shoulders and kissing your cheek. “Y/N, this is Mary,” he said. “Mary, this is Y/N, the lady I told you about.”

Mary didn’t say anything, instead she held up the cat in her arms and looked pointedly at Frank. He chuckled under his breath and shook his head.

“And that’s Fred,” he added. “Mary, say hello.”

She didn’t, just shot a glare in your direction, tucked the cat under her arm, and stared straight ahead.

“Give her time,” Frank whispered in your ear. “She’ll come around.”

He was right; by the time you reached the small beach where Frank had decided you were going to picnic, Mary had slid closer to you, eyeing you up and down, and asking you how you knew her uncle. You shot a quick look at Frank before answering her. He shrugged and nodded.

“We met at the bar where I work,” you told her.

“Is that the one he goes to on Saturdays?” she asked, squinting at you, as if she would be able to tell whether or not you were lying. You had a feeling she would, too.

“Um...yes,” you nodded.

“You work there?” she said.

“Actually, I own it,” you smiled.

“That’s cool,” Mary shrugged. 

You had a feeling she didn’t think it was so cool. Frank hadn’t been lying when he said she was precocious. She was going to be tough to win over.

Frank docked the boat, helped Mary and Fred the cat onto the beach, then he took your hand, one arm around your waist, and easily lifted into his arms. He stole a kiss, his lips lingering over yours for just a moment.

“Thanks for coming today,” he spoke softly.

“Thanks for inviting me,” you replied.

He kissed you again before finally setting you on your feet and grabbing the cooler from the boat. You helped him gather a couple of chairs and an umbrella, setting them up close to the water, the waves coming up and washing over your feet once you finally sat down. You put your sunglasses on and watched Mary and Fred play in the sand, your fingers loosely intertwined with Frank’s.


	4. Part 4

You and Frank had been dating for more than two weeks when he finally told you about the custody battle he found himself deeply embroiled in, with, of all people, his mother. He came by the bar for lunch, sitting with you in your office while you did paperwork, recounting what basically amounted to Mary’s life story.

It wasn’t long before you’d pushed the paperwork aside, your full attention on Frank and what he was telling you. His sister, Diane, had been some kind of math prodigy, sheltered and groomed by her mother for years, her sole purpose to solve the great unsolvable math problems of the world. Diane had devoted her life to solving something called the Navier-Stokes Problem. According to Frank, Diane had always been a troubled girl, who hadn’t had a normal childhood. The only person in her life she trusted was Frank.

“She showed up out of the blue on night, with the baby, told me she needed to talk. She never showed up unannounced and she never showed up with the baby. I should have known something was wrong, but I told her I’d talk to her when I got back from my date. I was already late and I figured I was hurting my chances of getting laid.” He swallowed thickly and stared at the desktop, using his fingernail to pick at a purple paint chip on the corner of it. “When I got home that night, Mary was on the couch and Diane was on the bathroom floor.”

You took his hand, squeezing it, wishing there was some way you could take away the guilt you knew was eating him alive.

Frank smiled weakly, his eyes swimming with tears. “Six and a half years later, me and Mary are still hangin’ out.”

“Oh Christ,” you muttered.

“Yeah,” he sighed. “And now, my mother, Evelyn, is here, trying to take custody of Mary away from me. She’s going to shove her in some room with a shit ton of tutors, doing to Mary exactly what she did to Diane. She won’t have a normal childhood. Not if she’s with my mother.”

“You don’t seem to care much for your mother,” you ventured.

“She is an exacting woman, my mother,” Frank said. “Uncompromising. Very British.”

“Her demeanor or -” you prompted.

“No, she’s actually British,” he smiled. He squeezed your hand. “So, that’s where we are. I’m the uncle slash guardian of a super smart, precocious little girl and my mother is trying to take custody away from me, which is funny seeing as how I’m not technically her legal guardian.”

“But she’s happy with you, right?” you asked.

“I don’t know,” Frank shrugged. “Maybe.”

You leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Frank’s lips. “Whatever you need from me, just ask. A shoulder to cry on, someone to bury you in beer, whatever, I’m here for you.”

“Come here,” he whispered, cupping the back of your head, his tongue dancing across your lips, and then he was pulling you into his lap, the kiss deepening, his hands sliding beneath the edge of your shirt, his calloused fingers rough against your soft skin. After a few minutes, he broke off the kiss, his forehead resting against yours, his hands tight on your hips.

“Why’d I take so long to notice you?” he murmured.

“Because you’re an idiot, Frank Adler,” you laughed, punching him lightly on the shoulder.

“Hmm, I must be,” he said. “Can you forgive me?”

“Already forgotten,” you shrugged.

“Good.” He rose to his feet, taking you with him, your feet hovering a few inches off the ground. “I should get back to work.” He kissed you again, slow and easy. “I’ll call you later.” He set you on your feet and disappeared out the door.

* * *

Frank’s call had come on Wednesday afternoon, shortly after the lunch crowd had thinned. You were grateful to hear from him, you hadn’t seen him in a few days; his custody case and your latest battle with your sister-in-law had kept the two of you apart, your only communication being via text message.

“Can you get tomorrow night off?” he asked.

“I think so,” you replied. “I think Derek and Jyl can handle things around here for one night. Why? What’s up?”

“Mary’s going to Boston,” he muttered.

“With Evelyn?” you gasped. “What? Why?”

“Court order,” he sighed. “Anyway, I was thinking you could come over -”

Your heart skipped a beat. Even though you and Frank had been dating for a few weeks, you hadn’t yet taken that step. God knew you wanted to and you were pretty sure Frank wanted to, but you’d agreed to take things slow. Plus, there was work, and Mary, and the custody case, and it just never seemed to be the right time.

“Y/N?”

“Sorry,” you said. “Lost in my thoughts.”

Frank chuckled quietly. “I’d love to have you come over and keep me company. I could cook -”

“You’re going to cook?” you interrupted.

“Okay, I’ll get Chinese takeout,” he laughed. “Whaddya say? Will you come over? Please?”

“I don’t know -” you teased.

“Are you gonna make me beg?” he grumbled playfully.

“No, not yet,” you giggled. “I’ll see you tomorrow night.” You disconnected the call with his laughter echoing in your ear.

* * *

The Chinese food was passable, the beers cold - well, Frank’s beer and your lemonade - and the movie you’d chosen to watch just funny enough to keep the mood light and easygoing. You knew that Frank was struggling with Mary being gone and you were happy to try to keep his mind off of it. So far you thought you were doing a pretty good job.

Frank shut the TV off when the movie was over and turned to you, one arm slipping around your waist, tugging you closer. He cupped your cheek, guiding your mouth to his, and kissed you softly. But it didn’t take long for it to change, for it to become something more, something deeper.

You didn’t speak, neither of you, but you somehow managed to make it to your feet, your hand in Frank’s, letting him lead you to the bedroom. There was a small lamp on the bedside table barely illuminating the room, but it was enough light for you to see Frank, to see the smile on his face, to see the tenderness in his eyes. You put your hand on his chest and pushed him backwards until his knees hit the bed and he sat down with a low grunt. You kneeled in front of him, took hold of the hem of your shirt, and pulled it over your head, then you crawled into Frank’s lap, straddling him. You were nervous, nervous as hell, but this was right, you knew it deep in your bones, nothing had ever felt more _right_  to you. You tangled your fingers in his hair, pressed your forehead to his and kissed him, holding his head in your hands.

His hands slid over your body, finally settling on your breasts, kneading and massaging them carefully, his thumb circling the nipple, bringing it to a hard peak. Frank’s mouth seemed to be everywhere, nibbling at your lips, kissing and sucking at your throat, your shoulders, his tongue dancing down your chest and over your breast before finally sucking the nipple into his mouth, biting it gently. He turned and lowered you to the bed, his mouth and his hands everywhere, his touch igniting a fire inside of you.

Clothes were discarded, blankets tossed to the floor, leaving nothing between the two of you, no barriers, nothing left to hide. Frank took his time, exploring every inch of your body with his mouth and his hands, gentle caresses and purposeful kisses, every move calculated to push you closer and closer to the edge. He traced slow, lazy circles down your stomach and over your hips, until his hand was between your legs, one finger sliding through the lips of your pussy, drawing a desperate moan from you.

You couldn’t think straight, couldn’t concentrate on any one thing he was doing, not when everything he was doing was driving you wild with need. He was devouring you, his mouth moving over every inch of your neck and chest, licking, nipping, and kissing you, two fingers buried deep inside of you, pumping slowly, dragging them over that one spot guaranteed to make you come unglued. You were so lost in the sensations Frank was pulling from you that you didn’t realize he had moved, sliding down your body until his head was between your legs. He took your hand, squeezing it tightly, his breath blowing over you, while his fingers still moved inside of you. Goosebumps broke out all over your skin.

When he sucked your clit between his lips, you moaned, loud and obscene, unable to hold back another second. You rocked your hips against his hand and mouth, all of your inhibitions gone. You moved, grinding against him, your fingers tangled in his hair, holding him to you, crying out your pleasure. Frank moaned, the vibration moving through you, pushing you over that final precipice, a full spectrum of color exploding behind your eyes, every nerve ending alight with ecstasy as you came.

You collapsed back on the bed, spent, overwhelmed with pleasure, but Frank wasn’t stopping, he was still between your legs, licking, sucking, his fingers still inside of you. You couldn’t catch your breath, not with Frank continuing to torture you. When he finally pulled away, he had a wicked grin on his face.

“Come here,” you murmured, holding out your hand.

He took it, crawling up your body until you were face to face, his beard tickling your cheek. You kissed him, tasting yourself on his tongue, another moan leaving you. Your hand slid down his body, closing around his cock, pumping slowly. Frank’s eyes closed, a groan leaving him.

“Condom?” you whispered.

He reached into the bedside table and pulled out a foil wrapped packet. He ripped it open and quickly slid it down his hard length. Frank pushed your legs apart, his touch gentle as he settled between your legs, his heavy cock slowly pushing into you. He took his time, allowing you to adjust to his size, a constant stream of praise whispered in your ear. He moved slowly, thrusting in and out of you with gentle strokes, until he had filled you completely. You wrapped your legs around him, your heels resting on the back of his thighs, urging him to move.

“God, Y/N, baby, you feel so good,” he rasped, his lips hovering just over yours, his hands sliding beneath you, lifting you to meet him, the two of you moving in perfect synchronicity.

You moaned his name, your hips rocking up to meet his, your nails digging into his skin, pulling him into you, desperate to feel every inch of him inside of you.

Frank set an easy pace, taking his time to explore you, to feel you, his hands roaming over your body, his cock buried deep inside of you, kissing you with a fierce possessiveness.

You were flying, rocketing toward your orgasm, each thrust from Frank taking you higher and higher. You held him close, your nails digging into his ass, meeting him thrust for thrust, your hips snapping up to meet his, and then you were gone, consumed by the sensations engulfing you as another orgasm swept over you, his name a sinful curse falling from your lips.

Frank kissed you as he moved, his long, hard body covering every inch of yours, claiming you as his, even though you already belonged to him. His movements became harder and more erratic as he began to move faster, slamming into you, chasing his own climax. He went stiff, a shudder running through him as he came, holding you tight against him.

He fell to the bed beside you with a quiet grunt, your legs still tangled together, your hand in his. He put it to his mouth and kissed the back of it.

“Stay the night?” he asked.

“No place I’d rather be,” you smiled.

* * *

Mary was back by Saturday afternoon, so Frank skipped his weekly visit to the bar, choosing to spend time with his niece. You missed him, but you understood. Since he couldn’t make it Saturday, he invited you to meet them for a late breakfast on Sunday. You and Mary were getting along a little better, no more glaring on her part, and she actually told you a little bit about her trip to Boston.

Frank rested his arm on the back of your chair, his fingers drawing circles on your bare shoulder, making you shiver. When Mary took off to look at a collection of seashells spread across one of the tables, he leaned over and pressed a kiss to the spot right beneath your ear.

“Thanks for coming to breakfast,” he whispered. “I think Mary’s starting to warm up to you.”

You turned your head and brushed a kiss across his lips. “Is that a good thing?” you wondered out loud.

“It’s a really good thing,” he replied. “Because I’d like you to stick around for awhile, if that’s alright with you?”

“Did you just make us exclusive, Adler?” you gasped, feigning shock, one hand pressed to your throat.

“Yeah, I think I just did,” he laughed, one eyebrow raised. “Is that okay?”

“It’s more than okay,” you grinned.

Frank leaned in to kiss you, but, of course, his phone chose that moment to ring. He dropped his head, his chin on his chest, a defeated grin on his face, but he dragged it out of his pocket and glanced at the screen.

“It’s my lawyer,” he said, hitting the button to answer. “Mr. Cullen, what can I do for you?”

He was quiet for a couple of minutes, a confused look on his face. He glanced your way a couple of times, but you had no idea why. He ended the phone call by agreeing to meet Cullen in an hour.

“What’s up?” you asked.

“He needs to talk to me,” Frank replied. “Said it’s important.”

“Did he say what it was about?” You took his hand, squeezing it gently.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “He said it was about you.”


	5. Part 5

 

You gave it two hours before you tried calling Frank, figuring it was more than enough time for him to meet with and talk to his lawyer. You were pacing circles in your closet-sized office, praying he would call you first, praying that this wasn’t what you thought it was.

Exactly two hours after he was scheduled to meet with his lawyer, you picked up the phone and hit the button to call him. It went straight to voicemail.

“Hey, Frank, it’s me,” you said. “Just checking in. Call me when you get a minute.” 

But he didn’t call you. You tried to shrug it off, tried to tell yourself he was probably busy with Mary or something like that. But every hour that passed with no contact had you growing more and more worried. You sent him a couple of text messages with no response and just before you closed the bar, you tried calling him. Once again, straight to voicemail. You didn’t leave a message.

You didn’t get much sleep, tossing and turning most of the night, imaging the worst scenarios possible, checking your phone repeatedly in case you’d missed Frank getting back to you. You gave up around five a.m., dragging yourself out of bed to make yourself a pot of coffee. You were back at the bar by eight.

You sequestered yourself in your office, not even coming out when Derek and Penny arrived around eleven. You were buried in paperwork, music up too loud, downing cup of coffee after cup of coffee, trying to forget that fact that Frank was ignoring you. So the knock startled you, enough that you sent a stack of papers tumbling to the floor.

“Shit,” you bitched, catching your cup before the coffee spilled everywhere. “What the fu -”

The words died in your mouth when you realized it was Frank standing in the doorway, leaning against the door jamb, staring at you. You snapped off the radio before dropping to your knees to pick up the paperwork scattered all over the place. Frank knelt beside you, lending a hand.

“Hi,” you whispered.

“Hi,” he said. “You got a minute?”

“Yeah, of course,” you replied. “Is everything okay?”

“Tell me about your brother,” Frank murmured.

* * *

 

**_Three Years Ago_ **

_ “Give me your goddamn keys, Todd,” you hissed. _

_ “Fuck you, Y/N,” your brother growled. _

_ You flew at him, slapping at his hand. Startled, and too drunk to move quickly, he dropped the keys at your feet. You snatched them off the floor. _

_ “Get your ass in the truck,” you ordered. “I’m taking you home.” _

_ Instead of doing as you asked, Todd picked up a bottle of whiskey, spun the cap off, and threw back several swallows, emptying the bottle. He dropped it to the floor, then grabbed a bottle of scotch before staggering to the door.  _

_ “Shit,” you mumbled, hurrying after him. You eyed the mess he’d left before closing and locking the door. You’d deal with it tomorrow; it wouldn’t be the first time. _

_ Your brother was already in truck by the time you got in beside him, drenched from the rain coming down in a deluge outside. Hurricane season was always a bitch. You wrinkled your nose, assaulted by the stench of alcohol filling the cab. You glared at your brother out of the corner of your eye, but he was ignoring you, ignoring the fact that his drinking had gotten out of control, ignoring everything important to him. _

_ “Maybe you should come back to my house?” you offered quietly. “Sleep it off. No sense going home to Jolene and Toby like this.” He usually took you up on the offer, preferring to keep his wife and kid in the dark about his drinking problem. Except tonight he was in a particularly stubborn mood. He always got like this on the anniversary of your father’s death. _

_ “Just take me home,” he muttered darkly, his tone leaving no room for argument. _

_ You didn’t argue with him, you couldn’t, so you put the truck in gear and pulled out of the parking lot. You had the windshield wipers on high, but it didn’t help, you couldn’t see past the end of the headlights. You knew you should pull over, wait out the rain, but you just wanted to get Todd home, get away from him for a little while. You’d had enough of his drinking for one night; he was impossible when he was drunk, mean and angry, just like your father, and, even though you hated to admit it, just like you had once been. _

_ “Could you hurry it up?” Todd snapped. “You’re driving like an old lady.” _

_ “It’s pouring rain and I can barely see the road -” _

_ “I don’t fucking care,” he screamed. “Just get me home.” Todd turned in his seat, his foot coming down hard on yours, pushing the gas pedal to the floor. _

_ The truck shot forward, the back end fishtailing as it hit a wet patch. The rear tires spun, no traction for almost ten seconds, then the truck shot forward and the next thing you knew, you were barreling down the road, out of control, the steering wheel turning, slipping through your fingers, the world turning upside down, spinning, metal crashing, glass breaking, screams filling your ears, your own screams drowned out by the pouring rain. _

* * *

You swiped at the tears streaming down your face, but you didn’t raise your head to look at Frank; you kept your eyes on the floor. You cleared your throat and continued with the story of your brother’s death.

“We veered off the side of the road and rolled down a steep incline,” you mumbled. “Todd was killed instantly and I ended up in the hospital for a few weeks with internal injuries and a concussion, had to have surgery to repair a tear in my intestines. When I came to, I was told that I under arrest for drunk driving and manslaughter. I’m...uh...I’m a recovering alcoholic, but the assumption was that I fell off the wagon, got drunk, and killed my brother in a car accident. My sister-in-law, Jolene, led the charge. She never wanted to believe that Todd was an alcoholic, denied it to the very end.”

“What about a blood test?” Frank asked.

“I guess…” you swallowed past the lump in your throat. “Todd and I were trapped in the truck for more than two hours before we were found. By the time they got us out and got me to the hospital, they figured that I burned off a lot of the alcohol, if not all of it.” You dragged in a deep breath.

“But?” Frank prompted.

“After an investigation, the charges were eventually dropped, but, well, the stigma has always hung around,” you sighed. “People can’t understand how a recovering alcoholic can own a bar, how I can come in here day after day and not have even one drink. There’s a lot of people that refuse to believe I didn’t have anything to do with my brother’s death. I’ve lost friends, my mother blames me, barely speaks to me, my sister-in-law keeps my nephew from me, only occasionally letting me see him, and now...now I’m afraid that you’re here to tell me something I don’t want to hear, all because this has been hanging over my head for three years.” You reached over and took Frank’s hands. “Please, please tell me that I’m being ridiculous, Frank. Please.”

It was Frank’s turn to stare at the floor. “My lawyer thinks that dating you is going to hurt my chances of getting custody of Mary. He said the court will frown on me being involved with an alcoholic bar owner who killed her brother.”

“I knew it,” you spat. “I fucking knew it.” You put your hands over your face and bit your tongue, holding back the scream of anger building in your throat.

“Look at me, Y/N,” Frank said, kneeling in front of you. “I said look at me!” He pulled your hands away from your face and grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him. “I don’t want to do this. Jesus Christ, it’s the last thing I want to do, because I think I’m…” He blew out a ragged breath. “Mary is the most important thing in the world to me and I can’t - no, I won’t - let my mother get custody of her. I will do whatever I have to do to keep her with me. Even if it means letting you go.”

You couldn’t speak, couldn’t let yourself speak, because if you opened your mouth now, you would beg him to change his mind, beg him not to let you go, but you couldn’t do that, you couldn’t let them take Mary away from him because you loved him. You just couldn’t. So, you nodded and shrugged, the tears sliding down your face more than enough of an answer for Frank.

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his arms, crushing you, his mouth slanted over yours, kissing you with every ounce of his being, kissing you for the last time. You clung to him, your arms around his neck, never wanting to let go, never wanting it to end. He was the long sought after dream, a hope and a wish you never really believed would come true. 

And you were losing him.

 


	6. Part 6

 

Jesus, you wanted a drink. Your fingers literally itched to pick up a bottle, any one of the bottles lining the shelves behind the bar would do, and down the liquid, feel the burn as it ran down your throat and settled into your stomach, relish the mind numbing oblivion that would eventually follow. Not even after your brother’s death had you wanted a drink this bad.

“Y/N?” Penny’s voice seemed distant, far away, almost unreal. “Y/N?”

You reached out and took the bottle of vodka off the shelf. Vodka, your drink of choice. Vodka, the drink that had chased away the pain of living with an alcoholic, abusive father, a mother who refused to acknowledge it, and a brother who had once been your hero but had turned into a younger version of your father. Vodka had gotten you through the pain, had gotten you through the heartache. Maybe it could do that again.

“Y/N!” Penny’s raised voice broke through the veil of vague, fuzzy memories your over-tired, overly emotional brain had been traipsing through, memories that had conveniently not included your drunken mistakes - too many to count - but only those that were too good to forget.

“Y-yeah?” You shoved the bottle back on the shelf and spun around, nearly tripping over your own feet in the process.

“When’s the last time you slept?” she asked quietly.

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “I got a couple of hours last night. Maybe. I don’t know.”

“You should go home,” Penny said. “We can handle things here.”

“I can’t,” you sighed. “I  _ think _  too much when I’m at home.”

Penny sat on one of the stools, reached over, and took your hand. “Have you talked to him?” she murmured.

“A couple of text messages, mostly him apologizing, and me telling him it’s okay, that I understand,” you shrugged. A single tear escaped and slid down your cheek. “But, it’s not okay.” You shook your head, unable to say anymore; you were barely holding your emotions in check. You cleared your throat and shrugged again.

“For what it’s worth, I don’t think Frank wanted to break up with you, Y/N,” Jyl interjected, sliding onto the stool beside Penny.

You rolled your eyes. “Do all of you know about my personal life?” you muttered.

“Yes, we do,” Derek added from the end of the bar, though to his credit, he stayed put. You suspected that he was avoiding the teary mess you had became over the last week since Frank had broken up with you. You’d thought you were keeping your personal issues to yourself, but clearly you were mistaken.

“You’re right, Jyl,” you agreed, slumping over the bar, your head in your hands. “I don’t think he did either. Which is what makes this a million times harder. Maybe if we hadn’t been, you know,  _ right there _ , this would be easier. Maybe I wouldn’t be crying myself to sleep every night, or moping around the bar, or wishing I hadn’t given up drinking.” You pointed over your shoulder at the liquor bottles lining the shelves. “Maybe I wouldn’t be remembering how good that bottle of vodka makes me feel. But, what are am I gonna do? Frank’s niece means the world to him, I can’t be the reason he loses her.”

“It’s not fair,” Jyl groused. “In fact, it’s bullshit. Fuck all of those assholes who think they know everything.”

“It’s for the best,” you said, though most days you didn’t believe that for a minute. “I’ll...I’ll be fine. I just need some, you know, time.”

Your answer seemed to satisfy your staff - your friends - because they scattered, back to getting the bar ready for a busy Saturday night. Too bad you were lying through your teeth.

* * *

You weren’t sure what you were doing, what new hell you’d decided to put yourself through, but you were already there, standing in the shadows, watching Frank, so it was too late to back out now. He’d been in the boat since you’d gotten here, his curses of frustration floating your way every so often. You’d started toward the boat half a dozen times to talk to him, but you hadn’t quite made it. You were about to give up and go home when you heard Frank say your name.

“I know you’re hiding over there, Y/N,” he called. “You might as well come up.”

“I wasn’t hiding,” you muttered, stepping out of the shadows and into the dim light cast from the garage door. You climbed the stepladder into the boat. “Hey there,” you whispered, sitting gingerly on the edge of one of the seats.

Frank didn’t say anything, but neither did you. The two of you sat in silence, a little uncomfortable, a little awkward, neither of you quite sure what to say or even how to act. So, you sat and you watched, and you waited.

“I don’t know what’s worse, designing a water pump that leaks or putting it somewhere that no human being can reach,” Frank grumbled. “How do you design something that you know is gonna fail? Gotta be devious or clueless, right?”

You nodded your agreement, though you weren’t sure he saw you. He might have only been talking to hear the sound of his voice, or maybe he was talking to you. You weren’t sure.

“After the first few weeks, I knew I had to find a real family for her. I was way in over my head,” he said.

“Guess we’re not talking about the boat anymore,” you added.

Frank shot you a slightly annoyed look, grabbed a dirty rag from the floor beside him, and sat back on his haunches. “Every day I’d say, ‘today’s the day...I’m taking her to child services.’ And everyday she’d do something just...so unbelievably cool. Her little personality was exploding. She was funny, and she was angry, and she was happy, and she was...sad. And cute. So damn entertaining.”

“You fell in love with her,” you affirmed.

“And so, I kept her,” Frank continued. “Not that that’s in her best interest.” He rose to his feet, his shoulders stiff, his guilt and anger coming off of him in waves of self-loathing. “Not that I’m capable of raising a child. A child that might still have a mother if I’d taken the time to notice she needed me.”

“That’s not your fault,” you shook your head, hurrying to his side, taking his hand in yours.

“But now, six and a half years later, I have the chance to do the right thing.” He extricated his hand from yours and turned away from you, not much, but enough to hurt. “I have the chance to give Mary the life she deserves and instead, I want to run away. I won’t do it again, Y/N. I won’t choose myself over anyone again.”

“That’s not why I’m here,” you mumbled. “I didn’t come here to try to get you to change your mind or choose me over Mary. I just...I just missed you, Frank. I just wanted to see you.”

“I miss you, too,” Frank whispered. “Jesus, do I miss you.” He scrubbed a hand over his face, leaving streaks of grease on his cheeks. “But, I gotta make a clean break. I’m sorry, but it’s just easier.” His eyes implored you to understand, to beg you to forgive him.

The tears were threatening again, tears you weren’t sure you could hold back. “I’ll go,” you sniffed. “I’m sorry.” You stumbled down the ladder, almost falling, barely getting your feet under you before you took off, sprinting across the parking lot to your car. Just before you slammed the door, you heard the clatter of a tool hitting the ground and Frank’s voice, the expletive he yelled echoing through the cool night air.

* * *

You slammed the safe shut, giving it one last yank to make sure it was closed tight. Another Saturday was in the books, another Saturday where you’d spent most of the night unconsciously looking for Frank. He didn’t come in, not that you were surprised. It had been almost two weeks since he’d broken up with you and a little over a week since you’d paid him that impromptu visit, but the pain was as fresh as if it was day one.

You were alone in the bar, having sent everyone home as soon as the last customer left. You locked your office, grabbed your purse from behind the bar, along with your bottle of water, and slipped out the back door. You were exhausted after working for the last fourteen hours; you just wanted to go home and sleep for the next twelve hours. Except you’d be lucky if you slept for more than two or three. 

Someone was leaning against the side of your car, a familiar silhouette that you suspected your tired brain was fabricating. You stopped, fear making your heart pound. You blinked several times, but the image didn’t change.

“H-hello?”

The silhouette stepped into the light thrown by the parking lot lights, hands shoved in his pockets, head down. He scraped the toe of his boot through the dirt. “Hey, Y/N,” he quavered.

“Frank?” you whispered. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

It only took two steps and you were being pulled into his arms, crushed against his chest, his face buried against the side of your neck. His cheeks were damp with tears. You slid your arms around his waist, returning the hug, or whatever it was. He seemed to sag in your arms, whatever worries burdening him were yours as well.

“Is it Mary?” you asked.

Frank could only nod, a choked sob coming from him. You took his hand and ushered him into the your car, then you hurried around to the driver’s side and slid in beside him, pulling the door closed behind you.

“What’s going on?” you prodded. “Is Mary okay? Did your...did your mother get custody of her?”

“No, but she’s not with me anymore,” he sighed heavily, pushing the palm of his hand against his eye, grimacing in pain. “She’s with a foster family. A compromise, supposedly, so both Evelyn and I could get what we wanted - that damn private school, but a normal life, sort of. Anyway, I went to see her today and...and she...well, she didn’t want to see me. Apparently she’s angry with me. I sat outside in my truck for half an hour, hoping she’d change her mind, to no avail. I finally left and just drove, for hours. Eventually, I ended up here. I didn’t...I didn’t know where else to go, who else to talk to. I’m sorry, I know you probably don’t want to see me, but I...I don’t have anybody else.”

You took Frank’s hand and pulled it into your lap, your fingers intertwined with his. You cupped the back of his head, your fingers running through his hair, and leaned into him, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. He turned his head, his lips finding yours, and the next thing you knew, he was pulling you into his arms and kissing you like he’d never kissed you before. You were both panting when you broke apart.

“God, Y/N, I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “I was stupid, I never should have -”

You put a finger to his lips, stopping him mid-sentence. “You don’t need to apologize,” you replied. “I know why you did what you did. I wouldn’t have wanted you to lose Mary because of me.”

“But I broke up with you over nothing, over something you didn’t do.” He pressed a kiss to your cheek, his lips sliding up your jaw to your ear. “I should have told you that I believed you, that I didn’t believe you had anything to do with your brother’s death. I’m sorry that your family has turned their back on you and I’m sorry that instead of fighting for you and I, I took the easy way out. I was just so desperate to keep Mary with me that I couldn’t think straight. Can you ever forgive me?”

“I already did,” you murmured. “Look, you’re obviously exhausted and I know I’m exhausted, so why don’t you come back to my place and we’ll get some sleep. We can talk some more over breakfast.”

“As long as I don’t have to cook,” Frank muttered.

“You can’t cook,” you smiled. “Even I know that.” You started the car, your hand on the gearshift, but before you could go anywhere, Frank put his hand over yours, caught your chin between his fingers, turning your head so you were looking at him.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he said. “I really am sorry.”

“No more apologizing,” you ordered. “We’re good.” You kissed him, your lips brushing lightly across his. “Let’s just figure out how we can get Mary to not be mad at you anymore. That’s what matters now.”


	7. Part 7

 

Another week passed, another week in which Mary refused to see Frank. He’d retreated into himself, spending hours at his rented garage, working late into the night, not sleeping, barely eating, throwing himself into his work. Even you were having a hard time getting him interested in anything other than the boats he was working on.

Tuesday afternoon, after yet another phone call from Roberta imploring you to “set that man straight,” you somehow convinced him to agree to come down to the bar and have an early lunch. He showed up a little after eleven, hair mussed, grease staining his white t-shirt, and bags under his eyes from lack of sleep. You met him at the door.

“You hungry?” you murmured.

“Not really,” he shrugged. “You’re going to feed me, though, aren’t you? Whether I like it or not.”

“Already made you a burger,” you smiled, pointing at a seat at the end of the bar. “You need to eat.”

Frank tucked your hand in his and let you lead him to the stool. He dropped onto it with a groan, grabbed the iced tea you’d set out for him, and drank half of it in just a couple of swallows. He smiled up at you, a weary smile that said more about his state of mind than any words ever could. You cupped his cheeks in your hands, tipped his head back, and pressed a kiss to his cold lips.

“Anything I can do?” you asked.

“You’re doing it,” he sighed, wrapping an arm around your waist and hugging you close, his head resting on your chest. “You coming over later?”

“Yeah,” you replied, “as soon as Jyl comes in.” You tapped the bar beside the plate of food. “Eat.” You kissed his forehead and slipped out of his arms. You returned to stocking the clean glasses beneath the counter while he ate, the only sound the radio on the counter playing light jazz and the waves crashing on the beach outside the open windows. 

One of the best things about dating Frank was how easy it was for the two of you to be together, how right it felt. You didn’t need to talk, didn’t need a never ending stream of conversation to fill the silence. It was never awkward, never uncomfortable. It amazed you how right it felt to be with him.

Once he’d finished his lunch, he helped you bring in a couple of kegs and two boxes of liquor, before begging off to return to work. He had a boat in dock he was trying to fix before the end of the week and he was anxious to get back to it.

Before he left, he cornered you in the storage room, his hands on your waist, your back pressed against the shelves, his body flush against yours as he kissed you breathless. You dragged your fingers through his hair, your leg wrapped around the back of his calf, holding him close. You could have stayed in there with him all day.

Frank released you, his lips still brushing against yours. “I’ll see you later?” he asked, his forehead resting on yours.

“Yeah,” you promised, swiping your thumb across his lower lip. “Later.”

You went back to work, but Frank and Mary were never far from your mind. There had to be some way to convince Mary to see Frank, but you certainly didn’t see her listening to you. She’d just been beginning to accept you when you and Frank had broken up and she had no idea the two of you were back together. And she probably wouldn’t care.

“Y/N?” Jyl’s voice echoed through the bar. “Y/N, where are you?”

“Hey, Jyl,” you said, coming back into the bar from the small patio attached to the bar. “What’s up?”

She tossed her bag on the counter and dug through it, finally pulling out a folded piece of paper. “Didn’t you say Frank had a cat?”

“Well, Mary has a cat,” you nodded. “But Fred went to the foster family with her. Why?”

Jyl slapped the paper down on the bar. “You might want to call Frank.”

* * *

You didn’t bother to call Frank, instead you snatched the paper off the bar, grabbed your purse and keys, and sprinted for your car. It only took you a few minutes to reach the dock, the paper clutched in your hand as you strode across the parking lot to the small garage Frank rented. He was standing over the workbench, tools and parts spread out in front of him. You slid to a halt beside him and stuck the picture of Fred right in his face.

“What’s this?” he chuckled, taking it from you, a faint smile on his face. The smile quickly changed to a grimace when he realized what he was holding in his hand. “Where did you get this?”

“Jyl saw it hanging on the community board at the library. She remembered me describing Fred, so she grabbed it and brought it to the bar,” you explained. “Why is Fred up for adoption at the Pinellas County Animal Shelter?”

“Get in the truck,” Frank ordered, dropping his tool to the table and shoving the paper into your hands.

You followed him, barely pulling the door shut before he had put the truck in gear and hit the gas. He was weaving through traffic, like a man possessed, his sole purpose getting to Fred. 

“Frank,” you snapped, “slow down.” You grabbed the dashboard as he whipped the truck in front of a tractor trailer, cutting it off. “We can’t get Fred if we’re smashed to pieces on the freeway.” 

He let off the gas, a little, but it was only because he was rounding a corner, pulling into the parking lot of Pinellas County Animal Services, parking diagonally across two spots. He raced inside, with you hot on his heels.

“Hi.” He leaned over the front counter.

“Hi, can we help you?” the young girl wearing glasses and manning the front desk asked.

“Uh, yeah, do you have a one-eyed orange cat named Fred?” Frank asked.

“Um, we have a one-eyed cat,” she said. “But, I don’t know what his name is.”

“Where?” Frank demanded.

“I don’t know,” she replied.

Behind her, another girl doing some filing piped up. “Today was his last day.”

A look of determination crossed Frank’s face just before he turned and pushed through a door to the left of the counter, the girl half out of her seat, yelling after him that he couldn’t go back there.

“I don’t think he cares, sweetheart,” you said. And you didn’t either, so you followed him as he raced past the cages holding the animals waiting for adoption and through a closed door with a sign stating “No Unauthorized Entry.” The two girls from the front desk were right behind you. 

“What are you doing back here?” some guy wearing blue surgical scrubs asked.

“Hey, Fred,” Frank said, leaning over the cage holding the orange one-eyed cat.

“Jesus, just in time,” you muttered, eyeing the needles spread out on the small table in front of the man.

“Who brought in this cat?” Frank asked.

“It was some guy,” the bespectacled girl shrugged. “He said it was an allergy issue.”

“Allergies?” you said. “I thought Mary’s foster family was okay with Fred.”

“They were.” Frank scrubbed a hand over his face.  “It’s my mother. Evelyn’s allergic to cats.”

* * *

“So, what’s in that box is going to help you get Mary back?” you asked, nodding at the box sitting on the floor by the door.

“I think so,” Frank said, taking a drink from the bottle of beer in his hand. “Scratch that. I know so. Evelyn won’t be able to resist. It’s all she’s ever wanted.”

“More than her granddaughter?” You couldn’t believe that was true. You shifted, trying to get comfortable, earning yourself a dirty look from the black and white cat on your lap. You ran a hand down his back, clicking your tongue at him until he tucked his head under his leg and went back to sleep.

You and Loui, the cat, had become friends while Frank had been pulling the box from a small storage box on the other side of the complex. He’d brought it back and given you a quick rundown on what was inside and what he was planning. He was convinced that Evelyn would agree.  

“Yes, more than her granddaughter,” Frank nodded. He pointed at the cat on your lap. “Am I being replaced?”

“Hey, you brought him home,” you shrugged, petting the cat. “Not my fault he likes me.”

Frank scooped the cat off of your lap, set it on the floor, leaned over you, and pressed a kiss to your lips. “You want a couple of cats?” he chuckled.

“Hey, you’re the sucker who brought home two extra cats besides Fred,” you laughed.

“Yeah, I’m a sucker,” he agreed, sliding an arm around you, hugging you close.

“Thank God for that,” you murmured, drawing him into a lingering kiss that ended too soon. 

“Rain check?” Frank asked, his thumb caressing your cheek.

“Definitely,” you said. “Now, how about we go get your niece?”


	8. Part 8

 

You stood at the bottom of the stairs while Frank was on the porch of the foster home where Mary was staying, Roberta a few feet behind you. When she’d discovered you were going to get Mary, she’d insisted on coming, the three of you squeezed into the front of his truck. You were nervous, shifting from foot to foot, the box Frank had pulled from storage in your hands, waiting for someone to answer the door on which he was currently pounding. You’d never seen him this determined, this focused.

After a couple of minutes, a man - you assumed Mary’s foster father, Kevin - yanked open the door. You could barely hear their exchange, Frank asking where Evelyn was, denial from Kevin, and finally, a woman who could only be the foster mother, stepping out to inform Frank that they were in the guest house. Frank spun around, sprinted across the driveway, and up the stairs behind you, ignoring the shouting behind him. You hurried after him.

Frank was just inside the door of a spacious living area that was filled with books and whiteboards and Mary, of course, just as he’d known she would be, sitting at a table with Evelyn, a pencil in her tiny hand and two guys who must have been tutors hovering over her. You stopped beside him and set the box on the table.

“What are you doing here?” Evelyn spat.

Frank ignored her. “Come on, Mary. We’re going home.”

“No,” Mary shook her head, her voice not even a whisper.

“You’re trespassing,” Evelyn added.

Frank pushed the lid off of the box and pulled out something inside. “You need to look at this.” He threw the bound book, titled  _ A Complete Proof of the Existence and Smoothness of the Navier-Stokes Equation by Diane E. Adler _  on the table in front of his mother. “Let’s go, Mary. Let’s move. Come on.”

“No,” Mary said, louder this time. She burst out of her chair, ran around the table, nearly colliding with you, and out the door.

“It’s okay, I got her,” Frank called over his shoulder, following his niece.

Evelyn moved to follow them, but Roberta stepped in front of her. “Think again, lady.” she warned.

“So, that’s how this is going to be, then,” Evelyn quipped. “You’re the neighbor, right?” She nodded at Roberta, then looked pointedly at you. “And you are?”

“I’m Y/N,” you replied.

“Oh yes, the alcoholic, bar owning, girlfriend,” she snorted. “I thought he dumped you, on the advice of his lawyer?”

“He realized he made a mistake,” you shrugged. “He has realized that he’s made several mistakes, including letting himself be convinced that this lie you fabricated would be a good thing for Mary.”

“Well, we’ll see about that,” Evelyn muttered, reaching for her phone.

You weren’t sure if she was going to call the police or her lawyer or what, but before she could dial, her eye caught sight of what Frank had thrown on the table. She picked it up, staring at it with an odd expression on her face. She flipped through it until Frank reappeared, Mary in his arms.

“Roberta,” the little girl smiled. Frank set her on her feet and she wrapped her arms around her friend, hugging her tight. 

You nodded at Roberta, who shooed Mary out the door. You didn’t leave with them, though. Frank needed you.

“Of all the stunts you could pull,” Evelyn bit out. “Wait, where are they going?”

“Nowhere, not yet,” Frank answered. “You two, out!”

The tutors jumped to their feet and hurried out the door, which you closed behind them, before standing beside Frank and taking his hand. You knew he could handle his mother on his own, but you didn’t want him to be alone. He clutched it tightly, grateful for your presence.

Evelyn held out the bound book in her hand. “What is this?” she asked.

“Do you want to know -”

“What is this?” Evelyn repeated, speaking over him.

“ - how Diane told me she finished?” Frank said.

“What is this unconscionable lie?” Evelyn was seething, her eyes wild, her chest heaving. She was going to lose it. This woman who Frank claimed had never been anything but cold, calm, and calculating was going to lose her shit.

Frank continued as if his mother had never spoken. “I walked in the apartment and she was sitting on the floor...with the baby in her arms and you know what she said to me?”

Evelyn was shaking her head. “Admit it. You made this up.”

“She said, ‘What do I do now?’” he finished. You could hear the raw pain in his voice, the memory of the suffering his sister had endured still fresh in his mind.

“No.” Evelyn was adamant, refusing to hear what Frank was telling her. “It’s not a completed proof.”

“It is,” Frank nodded.

“No!” Evelyn yelled, “It isn’t! It can’t be!”

“Evelyn, stop!” Frank shouted. He took a deep breath. “I’m taking Mary and I’m raising her how I believe Diane would have wanted it. I realize she’s not normal, but if Einstein can ride a bike, so can she.”

Frank’s mother was glaring at him. “Let’s say Diane didn’t tell me, which is nonsense. It’s a Millenium Problem. She would have shared it with the world. That’s where your charade falls apart. If she’d completed the proof, she would have published it.”

“Diana instructed me very clearly,” Frank shook his head. “I was only to publish it postmortem.”

“She died six years ago,” Evelyn snapped.

Frank looked pointedly at his mother. “It wasn’t her death she was talking about.”

You watched as realization dawned in Evelyn’s eyes, her hands shaking, her grim, determined, set-in-stone face so close to breaking. You’d been astonished when Frank had told you that his sister had solved the Millenium Problem she’d worked on for years, even more astonished when he told you that he’d promised her he wouldn’t publish it until after his mother’s death, per Diane’s instructions. It was Diane’s final ‘fuck you’ to her mother, a mother who had put her own child through hell, all for the sake of making her a math prodigy. You wondered if Evelyn had even loved Diane or if she’d only loved what her daughter could potentially do.

“I tried to talk her out of it,” Frank continued. “But you know how Diane could be when she made up her mind about something.” He took a deep breath. “I called MIT. Shankland’s out of his mind about the possibility of publishing it with you. He’s waiting for your call. You’re gonna spend the next few years of your life defending it. You won’t have time for her.”

“What if I say no?” Evelyn huffed.

“Back to plan A,” Frank shrugged.

“Wait for me to die?” His mother was practically snarling.

Frank sighed. “I know Diane was hard. I know she was angry. But something really good came out of this, Evelyn.” He pointed at the completed proof. “She needs you now. You’re the best woman for the job.”

His mother stared at it for a minute before holding it out to him. “Take it,” she said. “It doesn’t seem like Diane wanted me to have it.”

He didn’t move. You knew he wouldn’t take it back. He hated going against his sister’s wishes, he’d told you as much, but he also knew that it was his only chance at getting Mary back, at home where she belonged. 

“Diane didn’t always think things through,” Frank murmured. “We’ll be outside. Let me know what you wanna do.”

You followed him out the door and down the stairs. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs, wrapped his arms around you, and rested his forehead against yours. “Thank you,” he whispered.

“I didn’t do anything,” you smiled.

“You were there,” he grinned. “That was enough.”

“Frank!” Mary came flying out of the truck, nearly tackling the two of you as she wrapped her arms around her uncle’s

legs. “Hi, Y/N.”

“Hi, Mary,” you laughed, pushing her hair out of her face.

“Are we going home?” she asked Frank. “I miss Fred.”

Frank crouched down beside her. “He misses you, too. And, he’s got some new friends for you to meet. Loui and Chili. So, as soon as Evelyn comes down here and tells me what she’s decided, we’ll go. I promise.” He looked up at you and squeezed your hand. 

“Are you sure?” you wondered aloud.

“I’m sure,” he said. “She’ll make the right decision. I know she will.”

* * *

You were bouncing on your toes, unable to stand still. Every few seconds you’d look over at Frank, who would merely smile and shake his head.

“Relax,” he laughed. “It’s going to be fine.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” you muttered. “She likes you.”

“No, yesterday she told me she hated me,” Frank chuckled. “The piano thing came up again.”

“I told you, we’ve got that piano at the bar. She can takes lessons down there,” you said.

“At the bar?” Frank shook his head. “I don’t know, Y/N. It’s a bar.”

You shot him a dirty look, even though you knew he was teasing you. “I’m not saying she should come down on Friday or Saturday night at nine. But during the day, we’re very family friendly.”

Ever since you’d started dating Frank, again, you’d made it your mission to make sure the bar  _ was _  more family friendly. Derek had loved the idea - he had kids of his own - so he’d taken it upon himself to start planning ways to make it an appropriate place for children, at least until six in the evening. In fact, when Frank dropped you off later, you were going straight into a meeting about adding a play area to a small section of the stretch of beach behind the bar, as well as some picnic tables.

Frank grabbed your hand and tugged, dragging you right up against his body. He wrapped his arm around your waist, your hand still in his, pulling it behind your back. “Hey, stop,” he whispered. “I’m just teasing.” He kissed you, a soft lingering kiss that didn’t last nearly long enough. Of course, you were standing in the middle of a hallway at the local university, waiting for Mary’s class to end, so you weren’t exactly alone. “This is a good thing. A really good thing.”

You blew out a breath you hadn’t even realized you were holding. You kissed him back, smiling. “It’s the best thing.”

“Hey!” Mary’s voice floated over the crowd exiting the classrooms around you. “Y/N! I didn’t know you were coming!” She slid to a stop in front of you, a smile on her face.

Frank released you after pressing a kiss to your cheek.  “I thought I’d surprise you,” you smiled, crouching down beside her. “Is that okay?”

You were a bit surprised at Mary’s reaction to seeing you. Most days she seemed to tolerate your constant presence in her uncle’s life, in fact, you often wondered if she even really liked you, despite Frank constantly trying to convince you that she was actually quite fond of you. Seven-year-old girls were notoriously moody. You weren’t exactly used to this ‘happy to see you’ stuff.

You rose to your feet and held out your hand to her. She grabbed it with both of her hands, turning it to look at it, one finger poking at the ring you were now wearing on your ring finger.

“You said yes!” she squealed jumping up and down. “I knew you would! I told Frank you would!” She threw her arms around your waist, hugging you tight.

“You told her?” you laughed, staring at Frank, hugging Mary back.

“I needed her permission,” he shrugged.

He held out his hands, you and Mary each taking one. Twenty minutes later, Frank was coming to a stop in front of the school and Mary was dragging on her backpack and grabbing her lunchbox off the floor of the truck. She hugged you, then Frank before jumping out of the truck and joining her friends on the playground. One quick look and wave over her shoulder and she was set for the day.

Frank pulled back into traffic, his hand on your leg, a smile on his face, a smile that had been there pretty much non-stop since the day Mary had come home, even when the cats were taking up the entire bed or you were grumbling about your sister-in-law.

“Where are you up to today?” you asked.

“I’ve got the Wilson’s boat at ten,” he replied. “Then, this afternoon I’m taking Mary to her Brownie meeting.” He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. “Then dinner with my fiancee, if she’s not busy.”

“She’s not,” you laughed. “Come by the bar around five, I’ll cook.”

“I could cook,” Frank shrugged.

“You can’t, though,” you mumbled. “Bring Mary, I’ll make dinner for all of us. She can give me her input on the new playground.”

“She’ll love that,” Frank laughed. “But be careful, or she’ll take charge.” He came to a stop in front of the bar, put the truck in park and turned to you, pulling you into his arms. He kissed you, his hands sliding up and into your hair, holding you close.

“Bye,” you whispered when he finally released you.

“Later,” he chuckled. “I’ll see you for dinner.”

“It’s a date,” you said as you slipped out of the truck and sprinted up the stairs. You turned back at the top of the stairs, earning yourself one last smile from Frank before he drove away.

“It’s gonna be a good day,” you murmured. “A really good day.”

_**The End** _

 


End file.
